Caroling, Caroling
by riversidewren
Summary: A South Texas modern AU, based on a prompt by LadyCavil. Holiday decorating at d'Artagnan and Constance's apartment results in the boys being recruited to carol at Anne's non-profit. Will Athos sing in public? Can Aramis carry off the demanding role of Pancho Claus? Will d'Artagnan ever stop singing "Dominic the Donkey"? Stay tuned.
1. Chapter 1

**This is based on a caroling prompt given to me by LadyCavil. If you haven't read the story she wrote based on my prompt (Secret Santa), you need to. Let the holiday fun begin** _._

* * *

 _"A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together."_  
Garrison Keillor, _Leaving Home_

CHAPTER I

It had all started out innocently enough. Athos, Porthos, and Aramis were sprawled on the sectional at d'Artagnan's apartment, watching Constance unpack the holiday lights.

"He's so cute when he's hanging mistletoe," drawled Aramis, nodding at d'Artagnan.

The young Gascon, putting up Christmas directions under Constance's careful supervision. glared at his friend. "Shut up!"

Aramis turned to Porthos, "See what I mean? He gets so feisty!"

A deep laugh rumbled from Porthos' chest. "I guess he's cute enough, but not quite my type."

"You think that's funny?" retorted d'Artagnan. "For your information, I saw Rochefort buying Alice a drink at happy hour last night."

Porthos' eyes darkened. "What did he buy her?"

"I can't remember," replied d'Artagnan airily, placing a small herd of sparkly hedgehogs under the artificial tree.

"Liar!" Porthos was bristling at the very suggestion of Rochefort romancing his crush. "Are we talking a gin and tonic, or a jello shot?"

"Gentlemen." Athos' deep voice came from far corner of the sectional, where he was perusing Aramis' magazine collection. "Enough."

"Why are you four always so prickly once the Christmas season sets in?" inquired Constance. "This is the season of joy and happiness." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss d'Artagnan, and Aramis groaned. "Pass me another beer, Athos."

"Maybe we are focused too much on ourselves," said Athos meditatively. "I admit it's difficult for me to see my ex-wife at work this time of year."

"What if we went caroling?" D'Artagnan's voice was full of enthusiasm. "Jiggety-jig..hee-haw, hee-haw…It's Dominic the Donkey…jiggety-jig, hee-haw, hee-haw, the Italian Christmas donkey!" When he was met with a series of blank looks, he directed his attention to Constance. "Come on, you know it!"

"Only because you wouldn't stop singing it last Christmas," answered Constance wearily.

"Actually, that's a great idea!" Aramis' face brightened. "Anne's non-profit—"

He was suddenly drowned out by a chorus of comments from his friends.

"She does great work!" he answered defensively. "And they need carolers and a Pancho Claus for the Christmas pageant at the daycare there."

"I volunteer you for Pancho Claus," called out Constance with a smile.

"Maybe I'm just a kid from inner city Baltimore, but what the hell is Pancho Claus?" demanded Porthos.

"My friend, if you are going to live in South Texas for any period of time, you need to familiarize yourself with the local traditions—one of which is Pancho Claus."

"Aramis is the very picture of the man," said Athos, peering over the latest edition of GQ. "Black hair, black beard, mustache. Pancho Claus wears a hat-"

"Sometimes it's just a sombrero!" d'Artagnan began to rummage through the closet. "I know I have a great one in here from my last birthday. It lights up and everything!"

"I think I'll pass." Aramis took a swig from his beer. "But I did agree to play Pancho Claus. I already ordered the zoot suit."

"You bought one?" Porthos was incredulous. "Why didn't you borrow the one Athos has?"

Athos' blue eyes fixed on the big man. "Mine is purple. Pancho Claus doesn't do anything except red. Aramis, are you aware that there is a right and wrong way to slick back your hair?"

"Where have you been living? Under a rock? Of course there is a right way to do it! I'm exhibit A!" d'Artagnan puffed out his chest, turning to Constance for affirmation. "And why do you have a zoot suit, Athos?

"It's all down to Ninon and her Party Army," he replied, then turned the pages of the magazine, anxious to change the topic. "Apparently the bespoke mattress of the future is here…and it's damn cozy. Why did I not know about this?"

"Who cares about that? Dude, check out the article on page 43! Mark Wahlberg's sneaker collection is worth over 100K! Can you imagine?" d'Artagnan's voice was full of admiration.

Constance shot him a withering look. "Can you focus? I swear, if this keeps up, I'm breaking out the tequila."

"Why wait? The lady next door has already started on her tamales. She sent over two dozen this morning. She said I remind her of a man she fell in love with in Nuevo Laredo when she was 18."

"If we start in on the tequila, I want input on the Christmas songs we'll be singing," growled Porthos. "And Dominic the Donkey will **not** make the list. If I'm caroling, this is going to be a classy affair. I have a buddy who runs a tuxedo rental shop. I bet he could give us a deal."

Athos lifted an eyebrow. "I do not sing in public. Period."

Porthos turned and gave him a withering look. "This is not Royal Albert Hall, and the Queen will not be in attendance. Get over it."

Aramis glanced at Athos. "Anne did mention Ninon is in charge of the decorations. Did you know she runs the after-school empowerment program for girls?"

"She did mention that." Athos' voice was cool. "Do we already have a date in mind for this extravaganza?"

"December 12th," replied Aramis. "Does that mean you're in?"

"Perhaps." Athos turned the page, then glanced up. "Did someone mention tamales?"


	2. Chapter II-Ghost of Christmas Past

_"Christmas is not only getting too commercial, it's getting too dangerous."_

Linus, A Charlie Brown Christmas

* * *

 **Chapter II**

 **Ghost of Christmas Past, Enter Stage Left**

The sky was bright and clear on the day of the Christmas Pageant. When d'Artagnan, Porthos, Aramis, and Athos arrived at the community center, they found Anne and Ninon putting the finishing touches on the decorations.

"Aramis!" Anne's delicate face lit up when she saw him carrying his red zoot suit on a hanger. "You found a proper suit! The kids will be so excited! Thank you!" She gave him an impulsive hug, then blushed and stepped back. "I—I should go check on the progress in the kitchen. Louis—I mean Mayor Bourbon—will be here soon." Vanishing behind a life-size Nativity, she hurried off.

"Why the hell is _he_ showing up?" growled Aramis.

"It might have something to do with the fact that Anne is his fiancée," muttered Athos, shooting Aramis a warning look.

"Welcome to El Bueno Samaritano!" called out Ninon. She had just finished hanging up the last construction paper snowflake, lovingly decorated by a glitter-obsessed pre-schooler. "D'Artagnan, could you and Porthos please set up the chairs in front of the stage? Twenty rows, with a large aisle in the middle so that Pancho Claus has room to make his entrance! And Aramis, speaking of Pancho Claus, would you mind going out back and making sure the burros have been fed and watered?"

Aramis rolled his eyes. He mumbled something under his breath about not having signed up to babysit donkeys, but the three men dutifully scattered.

Athos was left standing in front of Ninon. "No task for me?" he asked lightly. She was wearing a burgundy sweater dress and polished black boots, and her blonde hair was swept up into a becoming French twist. The woman was lovely, and Athos felt his heart start to hammer in his chest.

She gave him a flirtatious smile. "I need you to save your energy for later."

He struggled to keep an impassive look on his face. "Meaning?"

"I have a special task in mind for you this evening." She stepped closer, and put on hand on his chest, her eyes dancing. "I believe you are the only man I know who is fit for the job."

He drew in a breath, and studied her for a moment. "I thought you had given up on men."

Ninon looked up at him. She ran her fingers along the curve of his jaw, and murmured, "I said I had given up on marriage, not on men."

"I'm not sure this is territory we want to venture into tonight."

"Why not?" she inquired innocently. "Surely you are not intimidated by a woman who knows her own mind?"

At that moment, a bright-eyed Hispanic girl came skipping into the room. "Ninon!" she squealed, launching herself at the tall woman.

"Lupita!" Ninon bent down to hug her. "What are you doing here so early? We don't need to get costumes on for another hour!"

"But I wanted to help. After all, I'm in second grade now! I'm not one of the little kids any more. They just get in the way, and don't show any initiative or independence."

"You have quite a vocabulary," commented Athos with a smile.

"Proper grammar and a good vocabulary are important," the little girl informed him solemnly. "In Spanish and English. I speak both. What languages do you know?"

"English and French."

"French is nice." Her voice was approving. "Ninon is going to start teaching us soon! Isn't that right, Ninon? Maybe you can come help!"

"Athos is a busy man," interjected Ninon. "He doesn't have a lot of free time."

"But he came here today, right?" Lupita stared up at Athos. "Are you Ninon's significant other?" Lowering her voice, she whispered, "Boyfriend is a demeaning term. Significant other or partner is more appropriate."

"Ninon and I are just friends," Athos answered with a smile. "But she is a good friend, and I cherish her friendship."

"You have really soulful eyes," commented Lupita. "And I like your beard. Do you know Pancho Claus?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Actually, I think I should go help get everything ready for his entrance. "He squatted down, and his manner became serious. "This is confidential, but he loves attention, and he's had a rough time the past few days. So make sure you cheer really, really loud. And tell him how handsome he looks with his red zoot suit—and his burros. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yes. Because I also have imagination and intelligence. All Ninon's girls do."

He smiled. "Good for you! Someday maybe you will be the mayor of this city."

"No. I'm going to be the CEO of a large multinational corporation."

"A very worthy goal."

"It was—" she glanced up at Ninon, then furrowed her brow in thought. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Athos."

"Your manners are as perfect as your _abuelita's_ ," said Ninon. "Now, why don't you go off to the kitchen, and see if the cookies are done?"

The little girl scampered off, and Athos glanced over at Porthos and d'Artagnan. "I'm going to go give them a hand. I'll see you later." He started for the stack of chairs, then stopped and turned. "Ninon. What you're doing here-it's important. These girls will feel loved and valued by someone other than their families. When they grow up, they will change the world."

Her expression softened. "It is my fondest hope that they will. Thank you."

He nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious, then went and joined his friends.

Porthos was singing as they worked, his deep, rich bass bringing new life to an old carol.

" _O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel."_

D'Artagnan's tenor took up the next line. _"That mourns in lonely exile here. Until the son of God appear."_

Aramis wandered in, and his baritone joined the refrain. _"Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, shall come to thee O Israel."_

Porthos stopped, and gave Athos a speculative glance. "You do know you're going to be singing with us tonight, don't you? The Emmanuel Quartet isn't gonna get off the ground without its fourth member."

"You know my views on singing in public." Athos' voice was cool.

"And why is that, anyway?" countered d'Artagnan. "You love being all moody and mysterious. Can you just give us a legitimate reason?"

The click-click of high heels was heard from behind them, and Athos looked up. He visibly blanched when he saw the woman approaching them. Petite and dark-haired, she strode forward confidently despite her five inch stiletto pumps. She was attired in a dark blue business suit that fit her slender body like a glove. When Ninon moved forward to intercept her, the woman whipped out a business card, and gave her a condescending look. "Anne de Winter, Health and Safety, South Texas division. Surprise state inspection. I hope you're prepared."

Aramis glanced at Athos, who appeared stunned. "What's wrong with you?" he whispered. "You look as if you have seen the ghost of Christmas Past."

"I have," muttered Athos.

* * *

 **I'm back! Virtual hot chocolate and cookies for everyone!**


	3. Let It Snow

CHAPTER III-LET IT SNOW

"The first thing I need to inspect are the facilities for the daycare you operate here. I will need to see the files on every child, including immunization records. I hope they are up to date. If not, it's an automatic shut down." Ms. de Winter gave Ninon a thin smile.

Anne came up, and caught the last part of the conversation. "Hello, I'm Anne Habsburg. I'm the director. I'd be glad to accommodate you, but we are in the middle of organizing our Christmas pageant. Could we perhaps reschedule for Monday?"

Inspector de Winter gave Anne a cold stare. "My time is valuable, Ms. Habsburg. The purpose of a surprise inspection is to see how the facility is run on a day to day basis, not when you have had ample warning to try to cover up all your deficiencies. You can either get me the information I need, or I can shut your center down. Your choice."

"I understand," said Anne, struggling to maintain a polite expression while she inwardly seethed. "Come this way, please."

As she glided past Athos, Ms. de Winter allowed her eyes to rest on him just for a heartbeat, then moved on. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air behind her, and Athos felt as if his soul had suddenly constricted.

"Damn," he muttered, then turned. "I'm going outside to supervise the parking."

"But no one's even here yet," called out d'Artagnan.

"Exactly." The look he gave his friends made it clear that he needed to be alone.

After he had left, Porthos looked at Aramis. "Do you think she could be the one?"

"Which one?" asked a mystified d'Artagnan.

"She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, that's who," replied Aramis absently, then muttered to Porthos, "I thought he said the woman he loved had left town years ago."

"That's what he told us," said Porthos, picking up an ornament that had fallen off the large Christmas tree. "What kind of an ornament is a gecko?" he inquired, frowning as he stared at the brightly colored bauble, fashioned in the shape of a small lizard.

"The gecko is a universal sign of good luck," responded Aramis. "Doesn't everyone know that?"

Porthos rolled his eyes. "We didn't have geckos in the concrete jungle of inner-city Baltimore. Getting home without being shot was a sign of good luck there."

"Maybe it means this will be the best Christmas ever!" sang out d'Artagnan, as he picked up Lupita and began to dance with her. The little girl had been running circles around them, and giggled as the young man whirled her around the room.

"Maybe." Aramis' voice was quiet, and not at all confident.

As Ninon shepherded the herd of children into the community center to take their places, dozens of cell phones were whipped out. Proud parents and grandparents took innumerable photos and videos, while infants slept in their carseats, blissfully unaware of the commotion around them.

When the last latecomer had straggled in and the grand procession of stars and angels had begun, Athos changed into his tuxedo. He was still adamant that he would not sing. However, Porthos had rented him a tuxedo despite his protests, and had insisted that he put it on.

As he walked back into the hallway, he heard the strains of "O Come All Ye Faithful" coming down the hallway. He stood with his back against the wall, letting the sounds of children's voices raised in song wash over him. Despite his best efforts, he could not ignore the light shining from the director's office. Moments later, he was standing outside the doorway.

The office was dark except for a lone desk light that shone over the files spread out in front of Anne de Winter. She was alone, and was bent over her laptop, oblivious to his presence. For five years, she had haunted his dreams, torturing him night after sleepless night. So how was it that catching her in an unguarded moment brought back only the best memories? _She still makes tortoiseshell glasses look incredibly sexy—and she hasn't lost the habit of drumming her fingers against the table._

He tried to remember the bitterness and anger he had felt on the night she had left, but all he could recall were the months of desolation and loneliness that had followed. When she ran a hand through her hair, the longing to feel her in his arms was almost unbearable. All of a sudden, she looked up. For just an instant, he saw a mix of emotions flash across her face—regret, joy, anger, passion. Then the neutral, composed expression was back in place.

"Hello, Athos." Those four syllables, spoken in her breathy voice, almost caused him to become undone. That realization sent a pulse of fury through his body, and the anger that had eluded him seconds before was now all that he was aware of.

He stepped inside, flicked the blinds closed, then shut the door, locking it behind him.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Am I to be your prisoner now?"

"Why are you doing this?" His voice was low, his words deliberate.

She lifted one exquisitely groomed eyebrow. "Because it's my job?"

"Don't play me for a fool! You knew I would be here…you _had_ have known it! Since when do state inspections occur on Saturdays?"

"For your information, the legislature—"

"Enough!" He pulled her to her feet, and had one arm around her waist before her brain could even register what he intended to do. "Don't you dare lie to me! This time, you will give me the honesty I deserved five years ago."

"Such drama, Athos," she murmured, her hands sliding instinctively around his neck. "I assure you, theatrics are not necessary. I too, have had these years to think over my actions. Ask me whatever you like, and I promise to give you the truth."

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet, sultry fragrance that was hers—and hers alone. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he muttered.

"I think-"

He cut her off, denying her the chance to try to gain control of the situation. "It's a simple question. Yes or no?"

Anne tilted her head, searching his eyes. The desire for him that she had thought long since extinguished rushed into her body, and she whispered, "Yes—please. Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

**I tend to write my chapters in one or two sittings, and I have no idea why my mind went in this direction this morning. I did adjust the rating of the story, just in case events continue to follow this rather unexpected trajectory. Questfan, it's not Ninon, but I know you won't be surprised. ;-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER IV-BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE**

 _What was it that W.C. Fields said? Never work with children or animals?_ Aramis thought darkly, tugging on the reins as one of the burros tried to go renegade and turn the cart in a circle. _Well, the kids aren't bad-actually, most of them are pretty darn adorable, but I'm never working with donkeys again. Never ever. Not even for Anne._

The small figures attired in Christmas pageant garb were jumping up and down, squealing with joy at the presents they had received. Random shouts of glee suddenly coalesced into an organized cheer. "PANCHO CLAUS! PANCHO CLAUS!" He lifted a hand to wave in acknowledgement, and the kids went berserk.

"This reminds me of the time I went to a One Direction concert! No, wait—maybe it was Selena Gomez!" d'Artagnan had to practically shout in order for Porthos to hear him.

The big man gave him a derisive look, then grinned. "I had no idea you had such—eclectic-musical tastes. I'm telling Constance."

"She already knows!" d'Artagnan shouted back defensively. "And she still agreed to move in with me-so there! She just makes me put on headphones when I want to listen to my tunes."

Porthos rolled his eyes. "Perhaps you should pair an elf hat with your tuxedo—she'd probably find that attractive as well."

D'Artagnan gave him a sulky glance. "I'm going to check on Athos. He should have been here by now." He stalked off, only to find himself cornered by Porthos once he reached the hallway.

"No you don't!" Porthos growled, seizing his arm. "I am not gonna run all over creation looking for you _and_ Athos!"

"Hello! That's what cell phones are for, Porthos!" D'Artagnan waved his IPhone in front of his friend's face.

"Cell phones are _not_ useful when the owner keeps them on silent all the time!"

"Oh, so that's what you think?! Okay, try it right now! Go ahead!"

Porthos pulled out his own phone, scrolled to his favorites screen, then stopped and grinned. "Oh, I forgot-you're not one of my favorites."

"Porthos!"

"Just kidding! Calm down!"

He dialed d'Artagnan's number, but there was only silence. He looked pointedly at the phone in d'Artagnan's hand. "It's awfully quiet. Am I right, or am I right?"

"Maybe it's a slow connection! Give it a minute!"

"Give me that!" Porthos snatched the phone, then flipped the volume on. The lively strains of can-can music were suddenly heard in the hallway.

"You bastard!" shouted d'Artagnan, charging him. "You've been messing with my phone again! How do you always guess my passcode?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." Porthos' booming laugh filled the corridor, and d'Artagnan began to wrestle him in earnest.

* * *

In the director's office, Anne and Athos finally separated for an instant, both gasping for breath.

She put a hand on his chest, smoothing the folds of his shirt. "Maybe we should take a break, and discuss what—"

"Do you want to stop?" Athos muttered, nuzzling her cheek.

"Hell, no!" she immediately replied, then swept the files off the desk and tossed her laptop onto the floor.

"But you had everything organized-"

"Don't care," she purred, hopping up onto the desk. Her green sparkled with mischief. "Remember that time I surprised you at work during lunch? I am quite sure that the door was locked and the blinds closed on that day as well."

Athos smirked. "As if I could forget. Your performance certainly livened up the boredom of office life. If I remember correctly, I took the rest of the day off." He paused, then toyed with the buttons on her blouse. "Did you cite that incident for a reason?" His voice had suddenly lowered an octave, and Anne felt her knees go weak. _How is it that he is the only man who can do this to me?_

"What do you think?" Anne murmured, and reached for her phone. Selecting a playlist, she set the device down, then stood up on the desk and struck a provocative pose. Pointing to the leather chair, she breathed, "Have a seat, darling. I don't do a striptease for just anyone—you might as well enjoy the view."

The first strains of music flooded the room, and Anne sang, _"I really can't stay—"_

Her sultry voice seemed to cast a spell over Athos. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes riveted on her. In the notes of his own perfect baritone, he heard himself respond, " _Baby, it's cold outside."_

 _"I've got to go away—"_ She turned, then slid off her jacket slowly, casting it to the floor.

 _"Baby, it's cold outside—"_ His brain was insistently whispering something, but he could only barely make out the words. _What the hell are you doing?_

 _"_ Shut up!" he muttered, his gaze fixed on the vision of loveliness in front of him.

* * *

"I'm worried," Anne whispered to Aramis. Her fiancée was chatting up Ninon in the corner, and the woman seemed to be hanging on to his every word.

He glanced at the couple. "I'd be too. Ninon looks like she's making a move on your man."

Anne burst into laughter. "Not that, silly! She's welcome-" She suddenly stopped. "I mean, what I'm worried about is the state inspector. She's been back in my office forever! I think she means to shut me down. Aramis, what if-"

He sensed she was panicking, and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. "Hey, I think everything will be fine, okay?" His voice was low and soothing, and Anne relaxed slightly. "How about I go back there with you, and we see what she's up to? Your mind is busy inventing worst-case scenarios because you don't know exactly what's going on. For all you know, she is writing up a glowing report citing El Bueno Samaritano as a shining example of a center that serves the entire community!"

She smiled shyly. "Maybe you're right. You always seem to be able to calm my nerves, Aramis. Let's go see what she's up to."

As they approached the office, Anne frowned. "It sounds like someone is playing music in there."

"Maybe she decided to put some Christmas music on-you know, to relieve the boredom of filling out all those online forms," suggested Aramis.

She turned the knob, then looked up at him. "The door is locked. That's odd."

"She probably wanted to make sure she wouldn't be disturbed. I'm sure she won't mind if we come in. I doubt she's doing anything to land her on the naughty list...unless you have a bottle of wine stashed in the desk and she's started to party a bit early—"

Anne rolled her eyes as she fished out her key "Please! You saw the woman! She probably spends her evenings in a bathrobe watching Antiques Roadshow."

"At least she has good taste in Christmas music. "Baby, It's Cold Outside" has always been one of my favs."

"Why am I not surprised?" Anne muttered. Aramis moved closer, and slipped his hand on top of hers, ostensibly to help her unlock the door. _"There's bound to be talk tomorrow-"_ he sang softly, _"Think of my life long sorrow—"_ She found that the simple action of turning the key was causing her heart to race. Confused by her emotions, she jerked the knob, and the door flew open. The sight that met their eyes caused Anne to gasp. Somehow, she had the presence of mind to reach for the knob and slam the door shut.

Aramis gulped, then said, "Umm—if that's what happens on Antiques Roadshow, I need to buy the DVD set. Remind me to put it on my Christmas list."

* * *

 **Milathos fans, this is your early Christmas present! :-)**


	5. Caroling, Caroling-The Fluffy Coda

**CHAPTER V-AN ADMITTEDLY SAPPY CODA**

* * *

Later that evening, Anne sat on the floor, stroking the six week old cocker spaniel snuggled up against her.

"He looks content," commented Aramis. He was stretched out on the floor next to her, a throw pillow from the couch stuffed behind his head.

Anne smiled. "So do you."

"Thai takeout and good company will do that."

She laughed. "I needed something to erase the memory of what we walked in on earlier."

Aramis smirked. "So the image of the prim Ms. de Winter, clad only in a crimson bra, matching panties, and her stilettos—sprawled across your desk with Athos-was a bit disturbing? I can't imagine why. But how do you think she ever got him to-"

"STOP!" Anne covered her eyes with her hands. "I don't want to think about it! Seeing it was bad enough!"

He chuckled, then sobered. "And how did you feel about Louis taking Ninon out for a drink?"

"Aramis, didn't you hear what he said?" Anne's voice was edgy. "It wasn't a date, it was a business meeting."

"Anne." He covered her hand with his own. "Why do you let him treat you like that? You deserve better."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip. "I know I do. It's just-we grew up together—went to the same events at the Country Club, attended the same private school. He was my escort at the Symphony Ball when I was 18. It was always assumed that we would marry."

"This isn't the 17th century," Aramis said quietly. "You can make your own decisions."

Anne looked down, and laced her fingers through his. "You're right. Perhaps I should practice on you."

He kissed her fingers. "Go ahead. Pretend I'm someone you are in love with—someone who wants you for all the right reasons—who would cherish you if given the chance."

She stared at their joined hands, then took in a breath. Leaning towards him, she brushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead, then murmured, "I am Anne. I am my own person, and this is my decision." Her kiss was shy at first, but when he deepened it, she responded almost immediately. The thrill that pulsed through her body was like nothing she had ever felt with Louis. Her fiance's kisses were—acceptable. They were even affectionate at times. But this was something completely different. Something amazing. She suddenly had the feeling that her life was just beginning.

* * *

Athos and his Anne were lying on the floor of his apartment. The Christmas tree she had persuaded him to buy on the way home had been manhandled into a stand. They had eventually gotten the lights on the tree, after a rather prolonged makeout session on the couch.

"Do we really have to get the ornaments on the tree first?" Athos' voice was low and seductive as he trailed his lips down Milady's neck.

"I am not making love to my husband under a bare tree," she murmured.

"No matter what I say—or do?" he asked, moving down to the sweet curve of her collarbone.

"I shall remain strong," she whispered, her eyes dancing. "After all, I didn't give in to you in that dreadful office, did I? Even though I wanted to?"

His hand slid to her hip. "Anne and Aramis sort of ruined the mood."

"The look on her face!" Milady began to laugh hysterically.

Athos grinned. "I had no idea you were that limber."

"You obviously have forgotten some of our escapades. Remember the time we locked ourselves in the bathroom at d'Artagnan's Fourth of July party?"

"I do seem to recall our own fireworks show." He took her hands in his, and became pensive. "Do you think there is a chance for us to start over?"

"I hope so." She looked up at him through her dark lashes, her green eyes searching his. "We both hurt each other so much, Athos. I want to let go of all the anger, all the bitterness…because seeing you again made me realize that it will never be over between us—until we are both dead."

"That's a rather depressing thought," he said dryly.

"Perhaps—or a liberating one. What do you say we spend New Year's together? Go away, just the two of us….do you still have that cabin in New Hampshire?"

"At Duck Lake? I do." He was silent. "Remember the time we found the baby owl, and nursed it back to health? What did we name her before we released her?"

"Dagny," she whispered. "It means new day."

"And so it is," he said, kissing her once again. "New Hampshire for New Year's it is."

* * *

 **I shot Athos last Christmas, so I decided to be kinder to him this year...** **Much love to all my readers!**


End file.
